The Captive
by Adaire
Summary: Mohinder manages to capture Sylar for a second time. Things heat up as the prisoner escapes and begins to act out a fantasy of his. Mylar Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Mohinder swept a lock of hair from his forehead and leaned back in his chair. His feet rested on the edge of his desk, his fingers softly tapping out a rhythm on the arm rest. His manner was casual, his body relaxed, yet his eyes were trained on his captive. His notebook rested on his lap, and every movement and sound from the beast inside was noted. He glanced over at the computer constantly, reassuring himself that all his escape precautions were enabled and functioning properly. He was careful this time- his arrogance had been his downfall in the past. There would be no underestimation, he knew his prisoner as his enemy, not as a victim deserving pity.

The scientist believed in the evolutionary imperative, he understood that the process was far from perfect, and often violent. The progression of the species was inevitable, and it was not his aim to hinder natural advancements. But this creature, this monster, was a risk to other evolutionary wonders. The danger in allowing this man to pursue his desires forced Mohinder to temporarily forfeit his belief that nature should be allowed run its course. At least in this case, this one was special.

He watched the captive simply sitting on his cot, a postion he had assumed for the better part of the day. This worried Mohinder considerably, as the man behind the glass was intelligent as well as powerful, and so much time spent thinking may lead to an escape plan. Mohinder attempted to ease his qualms- the materials used to keep his detainee imprisoned were resistant to all of his abilities, from induced radioactivity to temperature manipulations. As Mohinder stared fixedly at the man, allowing no movenment to go unnoticed, a slow grin spread across the prisoner's face. What was he smiling about? The scientist's eyes swept the containment room. Nothing was out of place, not there was much to move in the scarcely adorned cell. There was nothing to burn, freeze, telekinetically toss about, or run a current through. His prisoner was powerless. Mohinder leaned back, balancing on the back legs of his chair, and closed his eyes.

He awoke to a nearly suffocating increase in temperature, his clothing damp and drenched in sweat. The power had gone out. He groped for arms of his chair, attempted to stand up, and found himself floating a few inches higher than he stood. The implication of this dawned on him a moment before the new escapee illuminated the room with electricity emitting from his fingertips. The door had been blown off its hinges.

"Hello doctor. I was getting lonely in my cell, I thought I'd come out for a visit."

"Sylar. Noah will send reinforcement as soon as he realizes-"

His speech was cut short as Sylar released his telekinetic hold, and the scientist crumpled to the ground. Gasping for breath, he tried to continue.

"I'd advise you to consider your options. If you stay here, we will help you. We can erase your powers, we can erase your hunger."

He felt his body rise up again. This time it was the physical force of Sylar's hand that lifted him up. His captor's fist grabbed him roughly by his collar and thrust him against the wall. Mohinder looked up to see Sylar's still smiling face, his head tilted slightly to the left, observing Mohinder with a look either kind or cruel, it was impossible to tell in the illumnation of a few sparks.

"Oh doctor. Don't look so frightened. I really did just come out to have a little chat."

Sylar certainly knew he was bluffing- there was no one to contact aside from Noah, who had confidence enough in the security of the room and Mohinder's watchful gaze to leave the two alone for a few hours. A mistake, thought Mohinder ruefully, as he was now at the mercy of his former prisoner. The lights flickered back on now, but as the prisoner had already escaped from his cell, it served Mohinder as only a cruel reminder of his own inadequecy.

Mohinder looked curiously at the villain, wondering why he did not proceed to kill him. And as he looked, he could not help but notice the sculpted arm that pinned him to wall. The temperature had caused the captor to sweat as well, and his shirt clung to his chest, so his muscular top half was displayed advantageously in the light. His faced glistened with the sweat of exertion, creating a glow, accentuating his chiseled jaw, his masculine eyebrows. The scientist blinked. Why was he thinking about the physical beauty of the man that would be his murderer, moments before his own demise?

Sylar still watched the discouraged man with a smile playing upon his lips, noting the lingering gaze on his body. And his grip softened, as he observed the childlike eyes with which Mohinder looked at him- so doelike and simple, so soft and beautiful. The brown curls that circled his smooth face lay almost flat, losing the battle to heat and sweat, but this only made him appear more sweet and vulnerable. Sylar attempted to direct his thoughts back to his purpose. Mohinder had nothing he needed, but he must be killed.

Neither man had spoken for some time.


	2. Chapter 2

And as Sylar raised his arm, two fingers pointed to the scientist's forehead, he found the cruelty that came so naturally to him less easy on this occassion. He directed his thoughts back to the necessary course of action. This must be done. Why was it so difficult? It must be done, it's always done. His arm, still raised, twitched slightly to the right, making a small cut. Mohinder let out a whimper, his head falling to his chest. Men were so easily weakened and defeated, thought Sylar. Such deficient creatures should not be allowed to live. Had this man been extracted from his bubble world, nature would eat him alive. A trickle of blood made its way down Mohinder's forehead, and the villain's fingers rose to complete the task. But in a moment of his own weakness, Sylar felt his arm fall limp at his side. He let go of his prey completely, allowing him to fall against the wall, frightened and confused.

"Well ... what are you ... waiting for."

Mohinder panted out what he assumed would be his last words.

"Go ahead".

His weak attempt at defiance was met with that ever present smile. Sylar took a fistful of Mohinder's shirt, lifting him slightly off the ground and against the wall again. Mohinder closed his eyes, ready for whatever was to come. Maybe he deserved this. His attempts to play god had ended poorly in the past, yet he refused to learn from his mistakes. Who was he to imprison anyone, even a murderer? And then to attempt to alter what was clearly a natural gift? His arrogance, his pride and conceit, would always be his downfall. So as the sting of a fresh wound awakened his defiance, his awareness of his own accountablity readied him for his impending death.

But the next physical sensation he felt was not the pain of a fatal injury. It was the light pressure of lips pressed against his, soft and gentle. He felt his captor's hand fall from its grip at the throat make its way slowly down his chest, masculine hands attempting tenderness. And as the caress moved from the abdomen to the arms, the doctor, startled at first, began to kiss back. Observing the response, Sylar's manner transitioned from sweet to rough and passionate. Forcing his tounge into his captive's mouth, Sylar now pressed Mohinder against the wall with the force of his body, chest to chest, middle to middle. Mohinder reciprocated Sylar's sensual embrace with his own amorous caresses. His delicate fingers moved from Sylar's arms to his waist, and then began to lightly rub the hardening member between his legs.

And the man so powerful he could break a being in two with a thought weakened to accept this pleasure, and let out a soft moan.

"How does that feel?"

Not responding with words, Sylar moved his own hands down to his lover's sensitive parts. Gentle massaging became zealous, and soon each hand moved from outside the clothing to inside.

Sylar moaned again, into Mohinder's ear, expressing his increasing desire. He had envisioned this moment so many times, and this reality seemed merely an extension of countless fantasies. How many nights had he lain bed, wide awake, imagining Mohinder's sweet boyish features and deep brown eyes? How many daydreams had he had, hours spent picturing the scientist's lean body, naked beneath him? Soon this would be a reality, and his excitement increased.

Mohinder felt Sylar's throbbing dick, and he shivered with anticipation. This experience was entirely new to him, but he could not pretend the thought of another man's embrace had never piqued his curiousity. He could not have imagined that the man would be Sylar, so distracted was he with the labels of murderer, villain, monster. But how could he have failed to notice the beauty behind the raw power of this man? His sheer masculinity was an attraction, but the addition of physical perfection, of this beautifully toned body paired with the most intense, yet angelic face... How could he not have noticed?

Sylar began to unbutton Mohinder's shirt, planting gentle kisses down his neck, and as his teeth grazed the collarbone, he bit into his plaything's chest. Mohinder let out a gasp of pain, digging the fingers of his left hand into Sylar's back while continuing to massage his stiffening organ with his right. He slowly unbuttoned and unzippered his lover, allowing easier access, and soon slid off his pants entirely. In a moment, he sunk to his knees, looking up with those trusting eyes, and parted his lips.


	3. Chapter 3

Sylar did not waste a moment. He eased himself partway into the sweetly shaped mouth and closed his eyes. Mohinder became aware of his momentary power and teased his lover, only allowing the head in. His tongue circled the tip, unhurriedly, tormenting with kisses and quick flickering licks. Sylar opened his eyes and gazed down with an expression, half-serious, of warning. The look was enough to persuade the scientist to allow complete access, he slackened his jaw and permitted entry. Mohinder's tender tongue paid attention to the every movement of the organ upon it, moving lingeringly up and down its length, as his former foe slowly thrust himself in and out.

And the once unfeeling villain gave in to human pleasures, he allowed himself to express his emotions verbally. He whispered his lover's name, quietly, as he reached down to run his fingers through Mohinder's soft curls. As he continued the caress, his whisper rose slowly, becoming audible to his lover's ears, and neared a yell as the diligence of that gently moving tongue moved him to climax into the scientist's waiting mouth.

Sylar helped Mohinder to his feet with a clear yet unspoken gratitude, pulled the beautiful brown face close to his, and began to kiss him with a new ferocity. Mohinder did not know what he had given- he had granted an unsatisfied soul the beginning of a fantasy fulfilled. Thoughts of terrible hunger fled the monster's mind as a more human desire took its place. And as this need required no suffering on the part of others, the small part of him that still registered remorse was quieted. He understood that the ecstasy that filled his body with the aid of Mohinder's touch competed with the rush of murder and the acquisition of new power, but the unparalleled pleasure of the moment was no illusion.

"I'll do whatever you ask".

The simple statement was the first time that Mohinder had given himself up to another individual, completely lacking ulterior motives and hidden agendas. It was a simple desire to please. Sylar accepted, circling his arms around his devoted lover's waist, and slid off his lower garments. Both were naked now. Sylar's eyes devoured every inch of Mohinder's body, awknowledging that his imagination had not done justice to the figure in front of him. Mohinder observed his specimen with a more scientific eye, and was aware of the animalistic perfection of the body, muscular and fit. Almost simultaneously, hands reached out and resumed their duties of gentle groping and exploration, as the newly excited lips met again.

Sylar's mouth moved from the frenzied liplock to gentler kisses on the cheek, and then to playful biting on the ear. As Mohinder's hands moved down to his dick again, stroking roughly until the organ reached its full potential, Sylar whispered into Mohinder's ear. A single command sent shivers down their backs.

"Turn around".


	4. Chapter 4

Mohinder obeyed.

Sylar grabbed his face with lustful hands, twisting his neck back, and kissed him. Mohinder grimaced but did not object to the rough treatment, enjoying the dominance of his lover. Turning away from Sylar again, his back to him already, Mohinder prepared for the experience he knew would be painful.

But he ached for this man, this monster. His brutality attracted him, though his occasional gentleness had not failed to create a soft spot in Mohinder's heart. He couldn't explain his allure, the strange seductiveness of this beast, this sadist.

No, he shouldn't say that, he didn't feel that. He wouldn't judge a creature in the wild based on the instinct to kill for self-preservation. He didn't understand Sylar's need, his hunger, it could be of the same source. As the logical part of him set off alarms in his head, the Mohinder that was in the moment was more than willing to take this risk, and to accept Sylar for whatever he was.

He braced himself, ready and willing to take anything. He would hold back signs of suffering. He wondered if Sylar would be savage or kind, as he was certainly aware that the orifice that he would be exploring was not one that had recieved this sort of treatment before.

Sylar, unwilling and unable to resist any longer, pushed Mohinder up against the wall and held him still. He thrust his pulsing penis in Mohinder and allowed a soft moan to escape from his lips. Mohinder, despite sincere efforts, could not help but gasp in pain, the feel of this man inside him excited him but caused immediate agony. Sylar heard the sharp exhalation, and hugged his lover close. He pulled Mohinder's face back towards his with gentleness this time, and kissed him with as much tenderness as that of their first embrace, unsure and sweet.

Mohinder appreciated the kindness, and allowed himself to be held as Sylar moved himself rhythmically against him. Both men were grunting with exertion, sweating in the heat that bodies create in this act. Sylar finished inside, and turned Mohinder to face him.

The look in his eyes startled Mohinder. It was a look of adoration, of desire, of need. It was the look of the smitten, the love-struck. It was not an expression normally adorned by men of Sylar's savagery. Mohinder stared at this man, physically altered as the hardness of his countenance melted away with crueler appetites. Mohinder was aware that his own visage likely matched Sylar's.

And this time Mohinder pulled him in, grasping his face tightly as he kissed him, with unrestrained passion. A few moments into the fervent liplock, he pulled away.

"I hope this won't be the end of things, Sylar".

Sylar ran his fingers down the side of Mohinder's face, kissing the other cheek softly. He raised his lips to Mohinder's ear.

"No, it won't be."


End file.
